


The Real Story Behind the Shelving of the Okun Laser

by LostInThis (KleverKills)



Category: Independence Day (1996), Independence Day: Resurgence, Independence Day: Resurgence (2016)
Genre: Anal Sex, Area 51 Husbands, Blow Jobs, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Lab Sex, M/M, Science Husbands, but it kinda does, it wasnt supposed to have a plot, pre-ID4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-22
Updated: 2016-07-22
Packaged: 2018-07-25 23:53:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7552054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KleverKills/pseuds/LostInThis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Get the scoop on what caused the infamous 1994 meltdown in sector 3 that led to the shelving of the Okun Laser.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Real Story Behind the Shelving of the Okun Laser

**Author's Note:**

> Credit to Soong-Type-Princess for “You feel so nice, darlin,” and “B” oh and the whole lab smut idea tbh.
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Dr. Issacs walks the halls of Area 51 muttering to himself about foolhardy astrophysicist who don’t understand and appreciate the most basic of human needs like sleeping. Only a few others are still about in the darkened corridors, mostly maintenance crews, each of which smiles and shake their heads when Dr. Isaacs past. This isn’t the first or last time any of them will see the man going to collect his partner in the middle of the night from the labs. 

He finds Dr. Okun in the Sector 3 lab bent over a microscope humming to himself and scribbling notes. Brackish stands with a sudden “AH HA,” and dashes over to that monstrosity he’s been working on he calls the Okun Laser, and Dr. Issacs isn’t the least bit surprised that this is what’s kept Brackish from his bed tonight. He leans a hip against the lab table near the door, arms crossed loosely over his chest, and watches the other man changing settings on his newest invention. The white lab coat is caught up a bit on a lever, not that Brackish notices, and he’s pulled his tie loose over the course of the day. With a screwdriver clenched between his teeth and his glasses sliding down his nose he mutters and mumbles while his hands delicately re-wire and tighten parts.

Brackish’s hands can tell you a lot about him. When he’s in his element, nose buried in his work in the labs, they are steady and sure. He’s got hands that some would call musicians hands, hands that could have been surgeon hands, dexterous and long-fingered, when Dr. Issacs is feeling poetic he’d even say elegant. But take Dr. Okun from the labs and put him in most any social setting and those hands show a nervous manic mind. They fidget, tap, wring and fiddle with the slightest of nervous tremors the whole time. Dr. Issacs forgotten completely that he had made a deal with himself to stay mad this time when he found his lover, and really give him an earful on getting away from work sometimes and taking better care of himself. Watching Brackish work, it all slips away and all he wants to do is sneak a kiss, and twine his fingers with his lovers and see what story Brackish hands tell tonight. 

He pushes himself away from the lab table and approaches the busy scientist, unsurprised that he goes unnoticed. When Dr. Okun is caught up in work the whole world could stop spinning and he’d go on oblivious to it all. He takes a long way around the lab traversing the various stations, experiments, and projects in progress to come around behind Brackish. When he’s sure that there isn’t any danger of causing a disaster he slides one arm around his partners waist from behind, and uses his other hand to gently sweep back Brackish long greying hair and place a kiss on his cheek. It causes the other man to jump a bit and let out a startled gasp dropping the screwdriver he’d been biting. 

“Hey baby, why don’t you come to bed?” Milton whispers as he nuzzles Brackish’s cheek completely unapologetic for startling his companion. 

“Just a few more minutes babe. I’ve almost got the crystals alignment set up right.” Brackish, always so stubborn, refuses to acknowledge he’d let Milton get the jump on him. He might be saying one thing, but from the way he leans back and lifts his chin to expose more skin to the scrap of Milton's beard and the press of lips says something else completely. 

“Well then give me a proper kiss goodnight at least Brackish.” One of Milton’s hands slid down his companions back and the other across his waist until both are firmly gripping hips. With a little tug he pulls the other man away from the laser, and firmer against his own body. 

A breathy whines escapes Brackish as he lets himself be turned away from his work insisting on keeping up the charade of reluctance. He’s almost limp in Milton’s arms, but there’s mirth dancing in his piercing blue eyes and a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“And if I give you this ‘proper kiss goodnight’ will you be a good boy and let me get back to work?” Brackish breaths the words across Milton’s lips and flings his arms around his neck with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows. 

Before Milton can formulate a smart reply Brackish grinds their hips together. Milton is forced to take a step back and his butt hits the table where Brackish had been working earlier. He bites back a moan and tries to look at least a little disapproving, he is generally considered the responsible one after all. 

“Brackish, you know what happened last ti—” he’s cut off by the press of lips to his own. There is no use to fighting it, not that he’s even a little inclined to. Brackish loves with the same single minded wild zeal he has for his chosen profession. It could be daunting and thrilling to be on the receiving end of his attentions. 

It’s a gentle kiss to start, but then a wet swipe of Brackish tongue and Milton’s parting his lips letting Brackish steal away his breath. The arms that had been wrapped around his neck loosen and Brackish’s hands slide across his shoulders gripping them tight while he leans closer. Milton finds himself trapped between the press of his lover's body and the unmovable table behind him. He’s forced to let go of his partners hips to grip the table and keep his balance against the welcome assault of Brackish mouth on his. He moans into the kiss, but it turns from wanton to disappointed when Brackish pulls away. His eyes had slipped closed and he opens them to find the other man smiling wide, “glasses,” Brackish says laughing before pulling them off and tossing them aside. Habit has Milton’s eyes following the glasses noting where they land for later. 

Brackish tugs impishly at Milton’s beard to get his attention back, and pulls at the lapels of Milton’s lab coat pulling him forward away from the table enough to push it off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. “Come on baby, get with the program,” Brackish says imperiously, teasing as he slides off his own lab coat and pulls his already loose tie off over his head. 

Milton should probably continue to protest, as security has reminded them on more than one occasion there are cameras. Looking at his lover now, long salt and pepper hair wildly falling forward and into his eyes, his hands already making quick work of the buttons of his shirt, he can’t find it in him to care about securities hang ups. He lets Brackish finish unbuttoning his shirt, and sets himself to the task of getting the other man's suspenders out of the way so he can pull his shirt and undershirt free. 

A bit of scrambling, a broken beaker or two, more heated kisses. Their mouths fit together perfectly with practiced ease, they know when to give and when to take. Milton knows just how Brackish likes his bottom lip nipped, and the sounds it will pull from him. Their bodies slot together skin against skin they are both already flushed and breathless leaning heavily against the table to keep their balance. Brackish drags his nail lightly through the coarse dark hair on Milton's chest, his other hand deftly unbuckling Milton’s belt. The soft press of Brackish’s lips into Milton’s shoulders and the rough scrape of stubble sends shivers up Milton’s spine. He has his partner loosely embraced and watches with hooded eyes while Brackish works, happily letting him take the lead.

The pervert probably had this planned the whole time, Milton thinks. Honestly if Brackish didn’t have a tube of lube hidden in a pocket he’d be surprised. A laugh escapes him that quickly turns to a whimper when Brackish grinds their crotches together. The belt is finally free and the button and zipper are quick to follow. 

“Okay baby?” Brackish says his voice rougher than usual, a hot puff of air across Milton’s ear. 

It’s a struggle but he really, really should at least pretend to put up a token resistance. He does have a reputation to uphold, so Milton rolls his eyes shaking his head. 

“Brackish security,” he removes a hand from his partners waist and points at one of the cameras. 

“We better make sure to give them a hell of a show then,” Okun’s laughter fills the lab as he drops to his knees pulling Milton’s khakis and boxers down with him. Brackish uses one hand to steady Milton by the hip. His laughter is hot puffs of air on Milton’s sensitive cock, chasing away any lingering hesitation he may have been trying to hold onto. Even in this situation flushed with desire, hips quivering under his lover's sure grip wanting nothing more than to feel his lover's mouth on him, he finds himself laughing with Brackish. The man laughs with abandon, and it was his ability to make Issacs laugh even in the most unlikely of circumstances that eventually won him over. 

Brackish’s deft fingers wrap around him and stroke him firmly as their laughter dies away and the heat returns to the blue eyes looking up at him. Milton let’s his head fall back and his eyes slip close. The firm friction of Brackish hand on him stroking an easy slow rhythm, the press of fingers into his hip just shy of bruising, the labs sterile chemical smell, and the sound of their combined rough breathes fills his senses. 

Wet warmth envelopes him and his world narrows just to that sensation, the long drag of tongue around the head of his swollen cock drawing him in. He’s gripping the lab table so hard it’s almost painful and it digs into his backside, but it’s just one more sensation that fades to grey when his partner swallows around him. He lets out a moan and his hips buck, but Brackish has both hands on his hips now and holds him still. 

They’ve been together for some time and know each other as well as its possible for two people to know each other. With a scientist mind Brackish has mapped out his body and his every reaction through trial and error, testing each hypothesis thoroughly until he had answers he deemed conclusive. He can keep him like this on pleasures threshold for however long he wants. Pulling off and kissing his inner thigh, rubbing a stubbled cheek against the sensitive skin there when he’s close to coming and almost ready to beg, letting him come back from the verge just enough to make this last before taking him in his mouth again, pushing him to the edge again. 

He’s left gasping and almost falls forward when Brackish pulls away, unconsciously having curved his body over his lovers. Only Brackish’s firm grip on his shoulders keep him steady. His muddled mind struggles to put together when or why the other man is standing. Soon as he opens his eyes and is steady on his feet his lover is moving away. He watches with a mix of amusement and annoyance as Brackish pulls a little bottle of lube from his abandoned lab coat. 

“I knew it! You planned this all along,” he rasp out definitely more amused than annoyed. 

“You caught me babe,” the brat has the nerve to wink at him even as he replies. The familiar snap the cap sounds, and Okun raises an eyebrow in question. Issacs shakes his head dropping it in mock surrender. Looking up through his eyelashes he grins widely and quickly toes off his shoes before kicking his pants the rest of the way off. He turns and braces himself against the table looking over his shoulder at his lover with a grin. He was doomed from the beginning and he knows it, the man is irresistible. 

“B, I’m not waiting all night,” Milton says over his shoulder when Brackish stops to stare. It’s an admittedly low blow, using the nickname that he knows drivers the other man wild, but it gets him exactly the reaction he wants. 

With a growl Brackish is on Milton in a second. He presses their bodies together pushing him into the table, and capturing his lips. The angle is a little awkward, but the kiss is no less passionate for it. He’s caught up in the way Brackish’s tongue swipes against his own, and the way he sucks on his lower lip. He’s caught up in the way his hands write love across his skin in fleeting teasing touches, and pinch at sensitive nipples dragging a moan from him that Brackish swallows down. He’s so caught up in these things that he barely notices the wet press of a finger until it’s pressing into him. He pushes back into his lover and pulls away from the kiss resting his forehead against his forearms with a gasp. Brackish stays leaned over him pressed close, kissing his cheek, biting playfully at his ear, all while he works his long finger into Milton’s relaxed pliant body. 

“B, come on.” 

The air is cool on his flushed skin, where Brackish’s body warmed him just a second before. There is the sound of zipper, and some rustling. Another distinct click of a bottle cap and Brackish drawing a shuddering breath is all there is for a moment. Milton thinks he might be holding his breath unconsciously rocking against the table trying to get friction. Then his lover is there again, and the blunt push of his cock has him sighing out the breath he had been holding and relaxing to let his partner in. Hands are back tight on his hips again, and Milton can feel the scrape of pants on the back of his thighs. A soft moan escapes him, there’s something more intimate in being the only one fully exposed. With slow shallow thrust Brackish works his way deeper, so much more patient than anyone might believe the man is capable of for all his manic energy.

Milton throws out his hands to brace himself when when Brackish is finally seated in him completely and knocks something with his hand. He would have ignored it and just focused on the feel of being fucked into the table, but a sharp gasp from Brackish has his eyes shooting open to see what he’s jarred. 

“Careful! I finally got those crystals just right!” Brackish gives a sharp tug on Milton’s hips, and starts slowly pulling out.

“Sorry, sorry.” Milton pulls away from the lasers parts and crystals, bracing himself with his hands firmly gripping the tables edge again and pushing his hips back into his lovers with a moan. “Please, B, just...” He’s cut off by a sharp thrust, he barely has time to brace himself so he doesn’t jar the crystals again. 

 

“You feel so nice, darlin,” the words are a whisper in Milton's ear before a quick kiss to his neck as Brackish’s hair tickles his back and shoulders when he pulls back and deep and hard into Milton. 

They rock together, hot, sweating and lost in the feel of each other. Milton can hear Brackish mumbling little praises and encouragements, but the words bleed together when overwhelming pleasure rushes through his core each time Brackish catches just the right angle. 

Brackish reaches around and grips him firmly, stroking in time with his own hips. They breath in stuttered exhales and sharp intakes both close to the edge and ready to fall over. 

“That’s it darlin,” he hears just before he comes over his lover's hand and onto the side of the lab table. He falls forward just barely catching himself from knocking his chin, and rest his forehead against his forearms, Brackish’s thrust grow erratic. Through his post orgasm fog he hears a hitch in his lover’s breathing that’s oh so familiar, and buried deep inside of him Brackish comes as well. His legs are shaking and he’s grateful for the table to support him, especially when his brat of a partner falls forward against him, forehead pressed into his shoulder with a quick press of lips trying to catch his breath. 

They both stay like this as their breathing gets back to normal, and the labs cool climate cools them down until Brackish shivers a little against him. His brain has kickstarted again and he think about the mess they’ve made and notes they are definitely gonna have to sterile this area, again. He laughs a little when he hears Brackish groan, he’s knows his lover well enough to know he’s thinking along the same lines.

Milton pushes up forcing Brackish to stand as well and move back, he’s getting cold and Brackish is heavy. Turning around he grabs the other man by the hand and pulls him in for a quick chaste kiss, “I love you, B,” he says and then he’s stepping away finding his clothes to sort himself.

He grabs Brackish’s glasses first and hands them to his partner. As he picks up his pants and finds his shirt, out of the corner of his eye he sees Brackish standing there watching him with a satisfied smile. His hair is more wild than usual, he’s shirtless, pants barely hanging on low on his hips, his cock hangs exposed and flaccid though his open fly, and only then does Milton realize he hadn’t bothered with underwear. He’s not surprised in the least. He won’t say it now because the man doesn’t need the ego boost, he’s looking far too pleased with himself, but he thinks Brackish looks breathtaking like this. He wonders how he looks to his lover, but guesses much the same from the look on Brackish face. The love there and the boyish wonder in his eyes is enough to make Milton not only blush, but believe it’s true instead of his usual self doubt. 

“Are you just going to stand there and watch, or are you going to get dressed and come home with me?” Milton ask while he dresses trying to break up his own reverie. Brackish visible shakes himself and starts nodding. 

“Yeah, yeah just a second babe,” Brackish shakes himself out of his thoughts. He quickly adjust himself and does his pants up. In a couple steps he’s next to Milton and reaching around him to grab the laser piece and the crystals he was so worried about earlier. Milton laughs, of course he’s still thinking about that damned laser. It doesn’t bother him it’s just how the other man's genius brain works, he’s also probably been thinking about the latest reports from his other projects too. “Let me just pop this in real quick,” he walks over to the laser and puts the parts in followed by the crystals. They click in easy enough where he’d been making adjustments earlier, but when he stops reaches for his pocket, he can only scrowl and start searching the floor with his eyes. Milton see the screwdriver near his shoe and picks it up taking it over to Brackish.

“I still think this isn’t a good idea Brackish,” he says handing the screwdriver over to a nodded thanks. Brackish makes quick work of tightening the parts and crystals into place. “It just seems a bit dangerous.” 

“It’s perfectly safe, or well mostly safe.” This is a conversation they’ve had a few times. “The crystals looks good, was a little worried about them getting jarred earlier.” 

Milton leaves him to it to put on his shirt, and to grab his lab coat. He slips it on and finishes making himself look at least moderately presentable, before slipping his feet back into his shoes. Then he gathers up Brackish shirt, tie and suspender. He sets them aside and quickly hunts down a broom and cleans up the immediate mess of the beakers that got pushed off the other side of the table earlier, humming a little song to himself while he works. By the time he’s finished Brackish has put on his shirt, and is finishing his adjustments on the laser. 

“Alright babe let's get home,” Brackish takes his hand and they head out of the lab together. 

The next day there would be a meltdown in sector 3 and the Okun laser would have to be shelved. The security tapes from the prior night would mysteriously be missing, and Dr. Okun’s favorite lab coat would be destroyed in the incident. The report would simply state “I guess we agitated the crystals after all.”


End file.
